TheKinkyShrink

A wisp of cold air brushed past her legs, causing her to shudder. She had just spent a night in a sticky London club and the warmth-giving effects of the alcohol she had consumed were starting to wear off. The bright lights of a taxi shone dimly through winter’s fog-clouds. One foot in the road, one arm stretched as far out as anatomically possible. Yet the car was already occupied by a middle-aged woman, whose eyeballs rolled haughtily in disapproval as the taxi drove past. She watched the taxi for a minute or so, until it was out of sight, and presumably got its passenger to warmth, comfort, safety… A horn blared. She turned in sh

O Lover, you never displease me! So understanding -- and so fair... I just look in the mirror, you're always there. You appreciate me, Unlike my husband. You give me love when I need it most, Tell me I look beautiful (while he says nothing at all). You know me so well, (we're so alike!), But he doesn't. He knows her better than he knows me. Her. Oh well -- I don't care if he's loving her, For when he does, I'm loving you, And you, lover, love me better.

Let the beautiful sun shine upon them, So that it can burn their homes and take their food. Or let their mother wither and grow old, For she will again flood out her life, (too much life). Look forward to this slice of a century, The delicacy that proves to be far too near for them. -- O please, waste our money and do not help. Please, make things worse through our sardonic charity. Je pense à eux, but thinking is not enough.

I am not restricting you from satisfaction, I am protecting you from indulgence. For if you indulge too much, The cherry centre of your chocolate shall spill onto others. You will thank me; There is a euphoria of resistance and the withdrawn life, that is greater than you might think.

My hallucinations and teasing dreams claim it to be real. The confusion with that 'sinful' basic need makes me think it is real. Uninformed tradition and desperate hysteria needed it to be real. It is an emotion I have never felt and one we will never feel.

Should I pressure myself for a better grade, Or work overtime? Some more money and no time to spend it. This is how our collared lives are led: Empty, linear, consumed by legalism. It's lovely to think of running free, Not bound by laws, By dreams, By disappointment. It's lovely to think of, but only an ideal. I can never experience antinomianism, And neither can you. So we trudge on, Pointless rebels to the unchallengeable world. We live, Day by day, Day by day, Day by day. Why can I not be content Like a resident of cloud nine? Ignorant, Knowing of my purpose, Free.